“Good morning, Mr. Ghuman,” said Giles.

“Do you enjoy cricket, Priya?” Seb asked the young woman, whom he tried not to stare at.

“That’s a rather silly question to ask an Indian woman, Mr. Clifton,” said Priya, “because there wouldn’t be anything to talk to our men about if we didn’t follow cricket. How about you?”

“Uncle Giles played for the MCC, but when bowlers see me, they don’t expect it to be a lasting experience.”

She smiled. “And I heard your uncle say you work in the City.”

“Yes, I’m at Farthings Bank. And you, are you over here on holiday?”

“No,” said Priya. “Like you, I work in the City.”

Sebastian felt embarrassed. “What do you do?” he asked.

“I’m a senior analyst at Hambros.”

Let’s wind back, Seb wanted to say. “How interesting,” he managed, as a bell rang and rescued him.

They both looked out onto the ground to see two men in long white coats striding down the pavilion steps, a signal to the packed crowd that battle was about to commence.

* * *

“Mr. Clifton, what a pleasure to see you again,” said the Cabinet Secretary as the two men shook hands.

“What’s the teatime score?” asked Harry.

“England are seventy-one for five. Someone called Bedi is taking us apart.”

“I rather hope they beat us this time,” admitted Harry.

“That’s nothing less than high treason,” said Sir Alan, “but I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it. And by the way, congratulations on the worldwide success of Anatoly Babakov’s book.”

“You played your own role in making that possible, Sir Alan.”

“A minor role. After all, cabinet secretaries are not meant to appear on the stage, but be satisfied with prompting others from the wings. Can I get you a tea or coffee?”

“No, thank you,” said Harry, “and as I don’t want to take up any more of your time than necessary, I’ll get straight to the point.” Sir Alan leaned back in his chair. “Some years ago, you asked me to travel to Moscow on behalf of Her Majesty’s government, to carry out a private mission.”

“Which you did in an exemplary manner.”

“You may recall that I was required to memorize the names of a group of Russian agents operating in this country, and to pass those names on to you.”

“And most useful that has proved to be.”

“One of the names on that list was an agent called Pengelly.” The Cabinet Secretary reverted to being an expressionless mandarin. “I was rather hoping that is no more than a coincidence.” The wall of silence prevailed. “How stupid of me,” said Harry. “Of course you’d already worked out the significance of that particular name.”

“Thanks to you,” said Sir Alan.

“Has my brother-in-law been informed?” Another question that remained unanswered. “Is that entirely fair, Sir Alan?”

“Possibly not, but espionage is a dirty business, Mr. Clifton. One doesn’t exchange calling cards with the enemy.”

“But Giles is deeply in love with Pengelly’s daughter, and I know he wants to marry her.”